


Mother Knows Best

by genagirl



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genagirl/pseuds/genagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim thinks that Naomi is trying to kill him.  He might not be that far off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother Knows Best

Mother Knows Best

by Gena 

 

He counted four rings and had just resigned himself to the answering machine when Naomi picked up. "Hi, mom."

"Oh, Sweetie," her voice had an oddly distracted quality but Blair Sandburg had pretty much gotten use to that. "How’s the conference going?"

"Great," he smiled into the phone, "you would not believe the things they have schedu…….." A resounding crash derailed his train of thought. "Mom?" 

Silence greeted his query then the faint sound of his mother’s voice gathered strength like she’d just turned back to the phone. "Sorry, honey."

"What’s wrong?’ Blair demanded, "Has something happened?" Every nightmare he’d ever had about leaving his mother at the loft with Jim while he headed to Tacoma for a conference came rushing back in Technicolor horror. "Is Jim okay?"

"Well," Naomi drawled, "not exactly."

"Not exactly?!" Blair froze, the sweat breaking out on his palms threatened to dislodge his death grip on the phone. "What’s wrong, mom?"

"I think I killed him." 

Dark spots danced before Blair’s eyes. He staggered, sitting down hard on the bench provided, he assumed, for just such an occasion. He opened his mouth, trying to form words but could only make a gasping sound. His mother had killed his best friend? How could this have happened in less than twenty-four hours. "K-killed h-him?" Blair managed to whisper. "Are you sure?"

"He’s just kind of laying there……," Naomi’s voice trailed off.

"I-Is he breathing?" Blair sent a prayer to every deity he could think of and a couple he made up there on the spot.

"Blair, honey, I think I was wrong, he seems to be groaning." Blair just barely heard the last words over the clatter of his heart. "He doesn’t look too good," Naomi was saying. "He looks even worse than he did after he ate my special chili."

"Mom!" Blair shrieked, "you didn’t make your Six Alarm Tofu Chili, did you? Please, say you didn’t."

"Jim was hungry," Naomi reasoned. "I’ve never seen a man turn that red. But that was nothing compared to the reaction I got from doing his laundry." 

"Laundry?" Blair put his head between his knees, struggling to stave off unconsciousness. "Borax?"

"Of course, honey," Naomi said. "What else would I use on his clothes? Still, I don’t think he should have stripped off his pants like that and screamed all the way to the bathroom." Her voice had that reproachful edge as she continued. "and then his behavior last night at my "Wild In The Streets" cast reunion party."

"What happened?" Blair dug into his backpack, searching frantically for the paper bag his lunch had been in. Placing it over his mouth and nose he began to breathe deeply.

"Did you know Jim is fascinated by bright lights?" He could hear the wonder in his mother’s voice. "He stood there for almost an hour, just staring at the strobes." Blair breathed faster, the sides of the bag making loud crumply noises. "And then he fell over. I must say, honey, it was kind of embarrassing to have to ask Shelly Winters to help carry my son’s roommate to bed."

"He zoned," Blair whispered, dread now a Gordian knot in his belly. Louder, though muffled by the bag, he asked, "anything else?"

"Not really, sweetie," Naomi assured him, adding, "unless you want to count him curling into a fetal position, clamping his hands over his ears and whimpering." He could just imagine her shaking her head in that disappointed way she had. "Not very mature. I say if you don’t want a person to play her Enya CD, just come right out and say so."

"M-mom," Blair clutched the side of the booth, pulling himself to his feet. "Mom, why was Jim lying on the floor just now?" His hands shook, hell his whole body shook like Jello night at the Cosby household. 

"Oh, that," Naomi said dismissive tone intact, "sauerkraut." 

"Sauerkraut?" Blair stared down at the receiver a moment as if it could have somehow been responsible for the word his mother had just uttered. "I don’t think I understand."

"I thought I’d do you a favor, baby," Naomi told him, "I was cleaning out the refrigerator and Jim……."

"Opened the container of sauerkraut," Blair finished. "Mom, that had been in the fridge for two weeks. I was going to throw it away but….."

"You forgot. I know, honey, that’s why I set it aside." Blair heard the groaning from earlier getting louder. "I think Jim wants to talk to you, sweetie."

Blair waited. At first he heard nothing but labored breathing, then, "Sandburg?" Jim’s voice had a pleading quality though he barely spoke above a whisper. "She’s trying to kill me, Chief," he said. 

"My mom?"

"Yeah, who else?" Jim must have covered the phone with his hand, Blair heard a vague clunking noise then, "Chief? Sorry, I had to lock myself in the bathroom."

"Jim, my mom is not trying to kill you," Blair tried for a positive tone, though at that point he wasn’t as sure as he wished to sound. 

"I’d hate to see her if she tried then," Jim murmured. "when are you coming home, Sandburg?" Was that desperation in Ellison’s voice?

"Uh, how ‘bout tonight?"

"Great!" 

Blair clearly heard Naomi knocking on the bathroom door. "Jim? How would you like a nice pickled egg and lentil sandwich?"

"I’m on my way now, Jim!" Blair declared. He hung up, grabbed his pack and bolted from the booth. He’d told Jim his mother couldn’t possibly be trying to kill him, but doubt chased him all the way to his car. It was only an hour’s drive back to Cascade, what more could happen in an hour?

Jim cowered in the tub, plastic shower curtain pulled around him like a Wal-Mart force field. "Jim? Jim, honey," Naomi called again, "you can’t stay in there all night." 

Ellison prayed she was wrong. 

 

End


End file.
